


hot sauce

by margosfairyeye (Skittery)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing, just very early in the relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27112178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skittery/pseuds/margosfairyeye
Summary: Things get spicy when Michael and Alex (newly/secretly dating) can't keep their hands to themselves while out with their friends at brunch.-- --Fill for Kinktober Day 16: Intercrural sex
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 6
Kudos: 121





	hot sauce

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for Kinktober Day 16: Intercrural sex
> 
> \-- --   
> cw: semi-public sex (in a bathroom, plus teasing under a table)

Alex groaned, pushing his hips towards Michael while Michael gripped the sink, Alex’s cock rubbing between his closely held thighs. One of his hands wrapped around Michael’s waist tightly, his palm pressed against Michael’s stomach, while the other was loosely rubbing Michael’s cock. 

“Fuck,” Michael said loudly as Alex thrust against him, and Alex shh-ed him. 

“Quiet and fast, remember?”

Michael grinned back at him, and Alex leaned forward to kiss him, all hurried lips and teeth. Michael pulled away first, and Alex was sad to lose the contact, even though it let him focus better on the friction of his cock against Michael’s thighs, the way the tip of his cock slid against Michael’s balls when he thrust particularly hard. 

Through the door, the sounds of the diner filtered in far too clearly, and Alex bit back a moan. 

It had started innocently enough. Brunch with all of their friends, at least the ones who were currently speaking to one another, jammed into a booth with a table dragged up beside it. Alex and Michael hadn’t told anyone that they were tentatively doing this—for real this time. It was easier to dip their toes in the water in private, to keep from any outside opinions until the ground was solidly beneath their collective feet. 

Alex had gotten there first and slid into the booth to wait for everyone else, and it was just pure chance that Michael and Isobel arrived next, and no one batted an eye at Michael sliding into the booth beside Alex—after all, they’d fill up all the seats easily with the whole group there. 

Michael had given Alex a warm smile, and then turned right back to Isobel across the table, continuing whatever conversation they’d been having while Alex tried not to feel raw and unmoored. This was what they’d decided—what  _ both _ of them had wanted—together in private, and acting like nothing had changed in public. Just for now. But it still rubbed Alex wrong, made him feel an itch under his skin, to be sitting pressed close to Michael and not be able to touch him, or kiss him, or pull him onto his lap the way Alex wanted to. 

And then they’d ordered, and multiple conversations started around the table, and Michael had quietly lowered one of his hands underneath the table while the other one gripped his coffee cup like a vice. Alex hadn’t really even noticed, trying to stay part of all the conversations, until Michael’s hand was suddenly on Alex’s thigh, just sitting there. 

Alex had done his best to ignore it, to ignore the warmth of Michael’s hand and how good it felt to be touched, how much he wanted it, how just that pressure made his cock twitch in anticipation. He’d kept talking, drinking his coffee, and tried not to think about everything he would do to Michael later, when they were alone. 

Then Michael had started moving his hand. It was barely noticeable at first, soft and light movements, barely different than when his hand was still; but as time passed, Michael had grown bolder, rubbing over Alex’s thigh with enough pressure that it couldn’t be ignored, sliding his hand closer and closer to Alex’s cock. Alex had choked on his coffee, and shot Michael a warning look, but Michael had just raised an eyebrow like it was a challenge and kept stroking Alex’s thigh under the table. 

By the time their food had arrived on the table, Alex was incredibly hard, and Michael was swiping his fingers gently over Alex’s clothed cock every so often, just to drive him crazy. Alex knew Michael was teasing him, and that he ought to have enough willpower to ignore it, but instead he was practically vibrating with arousal, biting back moans or hiding them in his cup of coffee. 

“Are you okay?” Isobel asked, after he’d missed a question she’d asked twice in a row. “You’re sweating a little bit.”

Michael had squeezed Alex’s cock right as she said it, dragging his hand over Alex’s thigh slowly. Alex had swallowed, picking his fork up off the plate and putting it right back down before trying to smile reassuringly while Michael—the bastard—hid his own grin behind his cup. “F-fine.”

There hadn’t been anything to do for it but give in, and Alex wasn’t about to let Michael stroke him off through his pants at a table with everyone around them. Alex had grabbed the hot sauce sitting in the middle of the table and accidentally-on-purpose knocked it over, spilling red all over Michael’s white shirt and all over himself. 

“Thanks,” Michael had said calmly while Alex cried, “Fuck!” 

“I thought this shirt could use some color,” Michael said, sighing dramatically. “Guess I’d better go try to wash this off.”

He’d squeezed Alex’s cock again for good measure before sliding out of the booth, leaving Alex to hurriedly explain that he should also try to wash the sauce off his khakis. He’d moved out of the booth after Michael, holding a napkin in front of his lap as long as possible before he was certain it looked weird, willing his cock to stop being so fucking hard that it felt like there was beacon pointing it out to everyone in the diner. 

Alex had pushed into the bathroom without even knocking to find Michael smirking while he dabbed water on the stains. The diner bathroom was a single, and it wasn’t Alex’s ideal place for a fuck, but once he saw Michael’s smirk, there was nothing to be done. 

Alex locked the door behind him, breathing heavily. 

“Alex,” Michael said softly, with mock alarm, “What are  _ you _ doing here?”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Alex had surged forward and grabbed ahold of Michael, kissing him fiercely, with the intensity of the long minutes of frustration and arousal. He’d pressed Michael against the wall of the bathroom, palming him roughly through his jeans, smearing the hot sauce stains across both of their clothing and not giving anything close to a damn. 

Alex had Michael braced against the sink, his pants around his knees and was undoing his own pants when they realized they had no lube. 

“Really?” Alex had blinked at Michael, who was looking back at Alex over his shoulder, his eyes dark and his lips kissed red. 

“Surprisingly, I am not always prepared for you to fuck me,” Michael sassed. Alex thought he really ought to be, if he was going to rile him up like this at any opportunity. “I might have some in my truck if you want me to run out and—”

Alex had shaken his head. There wasn’t time for that—every minute they were away would be more and more suspicious, and his cock was painfully hard, too much to wait for Michael to sneak out of the diner and back in. He stepped up behind Michael, running his hands roughly over Michael’s ass, then stroking down over his thighs, rubbing a hand between them.

“I’m going to fuck you just like this,” Alex said quietly, slipping his cock between Michael’s thighs in place of his hand. “And it’s going to be quick, and quiet, and you’ll be wearing my cum until later, okay?”

Michael had nodded numbly as Alex wrapped a hand around him, bracing it on his stomach as he started to pump his hips, dragging his cock between Michael’s thighs. It had been a little rough, for a few seconds, until the precum leaking from his cock started to ease the friction, and Alex groaned against Michael’s neck, trying to keep himself quiet despite how fucking good it felt. 

Alex listened to Michael’s breath getting heavier, his hips working to thrust back at Alex, and Alex pressed his free hand to Michael’s cock, loosely stroking it as he fucked Michael’s thighs. “Is this what you wanted, when you started to touch me out there?” Alex asked, his voice low against Michael’s ear. “Did you want me to fuck you in the bathroom? Were you desperate for it, as soon as you saw me? As soon as you thought of what I could do to you? Did you want my cock so much that you couldn’t wait for us to be alone before you touched it?”

“Fuck,” Michael moaned loudly, and Alex shh-ed him. 

“Quiet and fast, remember?”

Michael kissed him and then turned away, his hands gripping the sink hard enough that they looked pale against the porcelain. “Hard to be quiet when you talk like that,” Michael said through gritted teeth, and Alex grinned against the back of his neck. 

“Then we’ll just aim for fast.” Alex sped up his motions, thrusting hard and quickly, his cock slipping across Michael’s skin, pressed tightly between his thighs. He bit back another moan, holding Michael close to him, and wrapped his hand more tightly around Michael’s cock, moving it more quickly in time with his thrusts. 

Michael moaned loudly again, and Alex had half a mind to cover his mouth, but instead he just kept fucking him and stroking him hard, until Michael gave a choked off cry and came, striping across Alex’s fist and the sink. 

“Good,” Alex whispered, continuing to lightly stroke Michael’s cock while he fucked his thighs, until everything was a blur of arousal and love and lust and Alex’s hips stuttered, cumming on Michael’s skin. He collapsed forward against Michael, his good leg shaking a little more than he’d like, thrusting through the aftershocks, rubbing his cum into Michael’s thighs. 

After a few seconds, when he felt steady again, Alex pulled away, turning Michael around so he could kiss him, feeling sated and somehow still like he wanted nothing but to leave out the back door and get Michael into his bed. Alex pulled away with a smile, using a tissue to wipe the errant cum off his hand and cock and tucking himself away. 

Michael reached for a tissue, too, and Alex tutted, rubbing his hand between Michael’s thighs to feel the sticky mess there. “I think you can wear my cum for the rest of brunch. I’ll wash it off you in the shower once we get home.”

Michael hesitated, then nodded, his expression glowing adoration, looking completely overcome with lust. He kissed Alex and then pulled up his jeans and fastened them, only looking a little bit uncomfortable with the feeling of it. At least it wasn’t concentrated enough in one spot that Alex thought it would soak through his jeans—it would just be a reminder, a reminder of Alex on him. Alex shivered with the thought as he washed off his hands. 

He let Michael leave the bathroom first, amazed that no one had tried to interrupt them, hoping they hadn’t been gone too long. It was watching Michael walk awkwardly back to the table that Alex realized what he’d said.  _ Once we get home _ . There were a lot of assumptions in that sentence, assumptions they hadn’t made yet since restarting this thing—that they’d be spending more time together today, that home meant something in their relationship, that they were sure enough to be a we. 

It was the kind of thing Alex was usually careful not to say, the reason he bit his tongue after sex, when it was liable to be looser under the glow of orgasm and the soft openness on Michael’s face. And he’d fucked up and said it, and Michael hadn’t blinked. Michael had  _ glowed _ , and  _ kissed _ Alex and  _ agreed _ . 

Alex left the bathroom, walking back over to the table. No one blinked, although he could tell it had been a little too long, and he would probably get a string of nosy texts later. He wasn’t sure he minded, though—he thought maybe they were done with secrets, maybe they didn’t have to be worried and cautious. Maybe this time was going to be better, was going to be real. 

Michael must have been thinking the same thing, because he scooted over into Alex’s seat, taking a bite out of Alex’s breakfast instead of swapping them, giving Alex a small smile as Alex sat down. 

“Guess it’s going to stick,” Isobel said with barely veiled amusement, nodding at them. 

Alex coughed on the bite of food he’d taken. Oh fuck, the stains on their clothing. He hadn’t even remembered to  _ pretend _ to clean it off of him. Panic started rising into Alex’s throat, but Michael just grinned at her before looking softly over at Alex. His hand snaked under the table again, resting on Alex’s leg in a way that was all reassurance. 

“Yeah,” Michael said, keeping his eyes on Alex for a beat too long to be subtle. “I think so.”


End file.
